AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, really?” I ask playfully. “You know those things do better in twos, right?”
“Steve, Jr., Jr.” His quip is actually quite cute, so I kiss him harder, letting him know he’s won.
30
ARGOSS
The sensation of her firm and voluptuous body in my grip will never lose its appeal, able to keep me coming back for another handful of whatever she’s willing to give me. I’d bet my life on it, since Steve's soggy, beet-red body currently sweating in my private sauna isn't even strong enough to kill my desire. Well, the thought of it.
The sensation of her fingernails tickling the back of my neck keeps me focused in the present, and the same goes for her tongue lapping against my own. The soft moan escaping her lips meets my exhale, sending shivers down my back.
The familiar creak of the sauna door forces my eyes open, reminding me Steve is the absolute worst. I pull my lips from my bride’s and release another exhale. Unlike its predecessor, it has no sex appeal, no Felicity-inspired origin.
“Maybe he’s thirsty,” Felicity says, frowning up at me for some reason. “It’s like you’re annoyed with him or something. Steve’s the coolest.”
I finally understand what mortals mean when they describe suddenly running hot and cold at once. My skin feels like it’s burning beneath a hill of fresh snow.
“What did you say?” I ask, barely aware of the quiet shuffling noise coming from the bathroom.
“Well, probably not the coolest right now, but you know what I mean,” she whispers through a smile. I have just enough time to register the sound of the man himself before turning to face him.
“Whoops! Didn’t know the room was occupado!” Steve cups his nethers like it’s the only reason I’m shielding my trembling wife from the baby elephant’s trunk between his legs.
“This is our bedroom. Where else would we be?”
“Not in a room with the naked guy in the attached bathroom trying to convalesce.” He shrugs, then reads my scowl and reaches for the closest thing to the bathroom doorway he can find. In other words, the jacket of my Armani suit draped over a bedroom chair.
“There are towels behind you!” I roar.
“Let me help you,” Felicity says through tears of laughter, throwing a look back at me as she breezes by Steve. “Also congratulations.”
“Follow her but at a distance,” I grumble. “Thank you for not suing.” I say that last part in case Felicity can still hear.
“No problemo. It’s an easy decision now that I know I’ve got a sauna available to me. Talk about luck, right?”
He leaves, and I’m left alone with my own thoughts, which inevitably become Steve-centric. Such a surprising pain in the ass, this man. Is there anything of mine he can’t easily distract, influence, charm, or destroy?
“Hey, hon,” Felicity’s voice calls from my walk-in closet. “Steve’s got free rein to choose what to borrow, right?”
I close my eyes and accept my fate like a warrior. “Go ahead!” I finally yell, worried Felicity will falsely think I’m not a giver.
“Stuff with the price tags still on included, right?” It’s Steve, and I wonder if he’s just laid claim to my newest set of silk pajamas and fleece bathrobe.
They have the tags still on them, and I doubt Steve’s talking about the set of Under Armor I picked up at the gym. Neither one will cover his nethers, and he’s not leaving this house without pants.
“Correct!” I find the strength to holler, then trudge to the nearest window to collect my thoughts. Maybe I should have seen this coming, Steve surprising me with the depths of his sabotage. The guy once ruined beards for me by rocking a gray and patchy one the entire month of November.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, reminding me that at least one thing is going right today. My olive branch to Greiko has finally paid off.
If you’re committed to change, prove it and meet with Cyella’s mage.I purse my lips, then squint my eyes shut to better focus. I need a response that says both ‘yes, I’m committed’ and ‘no, I’m not letting a witch poke around my memories like some test subject, but that doesn’t make me selfish.’
And if they get hurt in the process?I mean it. While there are those of my race who dedicate centuries to studying witchcraft, I am not one of them. I know just enough about their magic to be well aware that it’s both vast and dangerous.
Who knows how many counterspells, if such a thing even exists, that a mage has access to for something like this? What if the mage who psychically threads their way into my memory suffers some lasting effect? What then?
I bartered with a master,I write.My years weren’t the first he’s seen added to his own.
Cyella’s contact is no beginner.
